


Strange Behavior

by completelyhopeless



Series: Detective Grayson and Forensic Batgirl [6]
Category: DCU
Genre: Case Fic, F/M, Gen, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-01-02
Packaged: 2018-03-04 21:19:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3090305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/completelyhopeless/pseuds/completelyhopeless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dick is back, working when he can focus, but mostly just acting strange. Barbara doesn't know what to think or believe with him. The only thing they really agree on and know for sure is that this case needs to end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strange Behavior

**Author's Note:**

> I was having a hard time getting back into this, and I'm not really sure why. I got this much and said, "well... it's better than nothing."
> 
> So, here is an update.

* * *

“What is wrong with you?” Barbara finally blurted out, unable to stand it any longer. They'd worked without words before, sometimes for hours, but this wasn't like Dick. None of it was. The silence, the lack of food, the way he moved. She knew he was constantly in motion, but not like this. “That's the sixth time you've checked the window since you came down to my lab.”

Dick let out a breath, lowering his head, and Barbara took off her glasses, crossing over to him. She hesitated, not sure if touching him would be the right response. She had known a few cops with PTSD before, some soldiers, and her father as well, but each case was different. Some of them needed touch. For others, touching was the worst thing anyone could do.

She swallowed. “Hey, Detective. Look at me. You are in the batcave. Remember? We have another case to work on. You with me?”

“Yes,” he said, forcing his eyes away from the window. “Sorry, Babs. I know we've got a lot to deal with right now. I'm not trying to ignore what you're saying. I'm just...”

“Having a PTSD moment?”

He smiled, shaking his head. “No, I throw things when I do. This is different. It's not even—I don't know. I think this case might be getting to me.”

“Just a little,” she muttered, because she hadn't seen him in almost a day after sending off Alfred and no one knew where he'd been. He'd missed the call for a new case, and that was _not_ like him. She might not have known him that well, but she knew that much. Dick didn't miss those kind of calls. He would take every case in the department if he could. “Where were you?”

“Around. Look, just forget about that and tell me about this new death. Kowlinski's got this one, and he won't like me looking over his shoulder, but it should have been mine, and I know it's another part of the mess we're already dealing with, and I should have been here—”

“Dick,” she interrupted, reaching over to touch his arm. “You can't be everywhere. You had a good reason for being out of contact, didn't you?”

“I... yes...”

“Hey,” she said, moving her hand up to his face. “I am not blaming you or judging you. I don't even care why you weren't here. You're here now, and that is what matters.”

He took her hand and held it in his for a moment. “Is it, Babs? Because all of this crap seems to be about the past, and I don't have a time machine. I can't go back and fix it. I need to stop this, stop Maroni, and I have to get the people behind him, but I don't know that I can. If I let him escape again...”

“You won't.”

“Because you won't?” Dick asked, and she almost said yes. She wasn't going to let this go, and she wasn't going to let it destroy him, either. She didn't know how to help him, she wished she did. He pulled back from her and went to the other counter, eyes returning to the window before he settled. “What were you telling me about the fibers? I don't remember now.”

“Are you thinking someone's watching you? Is that why you keep looking at the windows?”

He let out a breath. “Maybe. It's not like Kowlinski _shouldn't_ be. He's got to be suspicious of me after Tim showed up and then I made him disappear. No, he's watching. If he isn't, he's stupid, but Maroni's never been stupid. Impulsive, a couple times, but he's careful.”

“Kowlinski isn't. His role in this is no surprise.”

“Bullies are bullies everywhere,” Dick said, shrugging. “I knew Kowlinski was dirty, but I didn't peg him for involvement for this. Which means—oh, hell. He's just Maroni's current fall guy. When this goes south and he decides to cut and run, Kowlinski will take the fall—after he's dead, of course.”

She grimaced. “You think Kowlinski would turn on him first if he knew?”

“Maybe, but it's unlikely. That's the genius of Maroni picking a dirty cop. Kowlinski's got so many other things to go down for and if he does go down as a dirty cop—well, cops in prison don't do well. It would have be one hell of a deal, which I don't have the power to swing.”

She nodded. “Still, it might be worth a shot. Better than letting you walk around as a living target.”

“Don't tell me you're worried about me,” he said, smiling. “No need. I've been taking care of myself since I was eight. I'm fine.”

“That is so not an endorsement,” she muttered, but his phone rang and he walked out of the lab to answer it, leaving her to glare at his back as she tried to find some way of saving the idiot from himself.

* * *

“Who was that?”

“Contact of mine from Star City,” Dick answered, putting his phone away. “It's nothing to do with this. Almost wish it was, that we could wrap things up faster, but it's not. So back to the fibers I spaced out while you were explaining...”

“Who do you know in Star City?”

“A lot of people,” he told her, smiling as she tried to swat him. He liked this, being here in her lab with her. Something about Babs was comfortable and _good._ Most of the stuff he knew and was comfortable with wasn't all that good. It was familiar, like that feeling he got when he _knew_ Bruce was back in the bottle or when Maroni was in town, but it wasn't good. Babs was good.

“You're smiling now. It's like you had a personality shift while you were on the phone. What's going on now?”

“You are so suspicious and tense,” Dick said. “I bet you are all—yep. Feel those shoulders? You are the tensest lab tech I know.”

She snorted. “I'm the _only_ lab tech you know, Grayson.”

“I almost said you were the tensest woman or girl I knew, but I figured that was too sexist, especially when I almost offered you a massage. I wouldn't want to get turned in for harassment, not now. Kowlinski would take any excuse he could get to get rid of me,” Dick said, forcing himself not to squeeze her shoulders. “Fibers, Babs?”

“Were you on the phone with your girlfriend?”

“No.” Dick almost laughed. “Since when do I have time to date anyone? No, I'm just—you're not jealous, are you? You know you're the only woman in my life.”

She shook her head. “Something is up with you, and that goofy grin usually means that a guy is in love, but I'm no expert in this sort of thing, so I could be wrong. Still, I'm not sure what else flips a man's switch like yours did just now.”

He smiled. “You are such a worrywart, you know that, right?”

“Dick—”

“The circus is in Star City. Which means they'll be in Gotham next week.”

“The circus.”

“Yeah. You know, my family? All of them will be back next week. It's gonna be great. It's been too long since they were in Gotham. I've never really made enough to travel to see them, so I haven't seen most of them in years,” he explained. She still didn't seem to believe him, and he frowned. “Okay, so maybe they haven't been here since the year my parents died, but it's not like they were killed under the big top, and even if they were, I'd still love the circus because it was my first home and they are still family. There isn't a feeling in the world like soaring through the air on the trapeze and...”

She startled him by putting her arms around him, and he blinked, confused. She held on tight, her arms around his neck. “You are an adorable idiot. Don't ever change. But if you are lying to me again, I will hurt you. I mean it.”

“Um... Sure, okay.”

She pulled back, straightening her lab coat. “I just... If you're telling me it's the circus so that I'll ignore your weird behavior, I won't forgive you. You did that by using your ribs as an excuse, and you did it with your screwed up relationship with Bruce, and you did it with your injuries a second time, made me think that's why you weren't sleeping. If this call isn't what you said it was—”

“It was. I swear. I'm sorry I freaked you out, but the circus always puts a smile on my face. I'm weird that way,” he told her, smiling. “So, the fibers?”

She rolled her eyes. “I found something unique this time. Not another suit. I'm not sure what to make of this fabric or why it was at the scene.”

“Wait, is that date right?” Dick asked, frowning at her screen. “That's seriously from one of those Persian rugs that's worth _thousands_ of dollars and belongs in a museum?”

“Yes.”

He shook his head. “I don't know what to make of that. However... There is someone who might.”

“You know a rug dealer?”

“Nope,” he said, pulling out his phone and making the call. He waited for it to connect. “Hey, Catwoman. It's your favorite little bird. You got time to answer a quick question for me?”

“Dick.” Selina's voice was almost always borderline purr. “Of course I have time for you. When do I not? No, don't answer that. I always have time for you—as long as this isn't about Bruce.”

“Scout's honor it's not.”

“You were never a boy scout.”

“True, I wasn't, but I'm not calling about him. I'm curious about who might be moving in Persian rugs these days. Had the fibers from one end up at a crime scene, but it was far from where you'd expect to find that sort of thing. You know anything that might help?”

“I might. It might also cost you dinner.”

He laughed. “And here I thought you had expensive tastes.”

“I didn't name the restaurant yet. I'll be in touch.”

He hung up, catching Babs watching him. He shrugged. “What? It's not like she was ever really my aunt. Or my mom. Or anything you want to call her. She's... a friend. A good source of black market intel. She's been invaluable for the robbery part of my job. Why wouldn't I call her when I need her expertise on a homicide?”

“No reason.”

He almost laughed, but he knew where teasing Babs about being jealous would get him—kicked right out of the lab. He put his hands on her shoulders. “The offer of a massage still stands, but if you don't want it and don't approve of my friends, I'd better go. I've got a few other things to look into, and I'd rather keep the bulls-eye on my back and off of yours.”

She shook her head. “You don't have to protect me.”

“I know, but I'm already a target. No need to make you one, too.” He gave into the impulse and kissed her cheek again. “Be careful, Babs.”

“You, too, Thoughtless Wonder.”

* * *

Barbara was used to being the last one to leave the office, keeping all sorts of odd hours because crime was rarely considerate enough to happen in the daylight hours and tests never finished when they were supposed to, and her job was never as predictable as it should have been. She was rarely frightened walking into the parking lot, even in the latest hours of the darkest nights. She wasn't afraid. She wasn't helpless, and even if Dick had put a bulls-eye on himself, maybe on her, she was used to it. She'd grown up the daughter of a cop—the daughter of the commissioner—and had been a target for every sicko in Gotham at one time or another.

She had mace and a taser in her purse, and even if she didn't, she could fight. She had chosen not to carry concealed years ago, though she had a license for it. She wasn't worried.

She was watchful, as always, but she wasn't a quivering mass of nerves, either. She headed across the lot, listening to a couple of uniformed officers in the distance, complaining about the night shift, and her own shoes as they touched the pavement. She knew better than to wear heels after her long days on the job, but why women's dress shoes always had to make noise was beyond her. It was too sexist for her liking. Men had to be able to hear them coming, she supposed, or they'd never know to shut up when they should have.

She stopped at her car and unlocked it, opening the door and throwing the bag on the passenger seat before getting in herself. She was pulling on her seat belt when the gun cocked next to her head.

“Where's Grayson?”

“You really gonna do this here in front of the police station?”

“All the cops in Gotham are crooked, lady. Your luck is actually better with me than it is with them.”

She grimaced. Worst part of it all was that whoever he was, he was right. “What do you want with Detective Grayson and what makes you think I know where he is?”

“You do,” the voice insisted. “And even if you don't, you know how to find him. You'd better do it. Fast.”

 _Damn it, Dick,_ she thought. _I told you not to lie to me._


End file.
